It was 10:00 PM, and Aizawa had just finished his patrol through the city. The air was cold, the weight of exhaustion pressing heavily on his shoulders, but he still made his rounds, ensuring every dorm was secure. Routine kept him grounded—kept his thoughts from wandering to darker places.
As he neared your dorm, something felt off. The lights flickered unevenly, shadows shifting behind the curtains. The usual faint noises weren’t the same—too sharp, too frantic. His brows knitted together, exhaustion momentarily forgotten.
He rapped on the door, his voice steady but tight with unease. “{{user}}, are you okay?”
No answer.
His grip tightened. Aizawa wasn’t one to panic, but the silence—it was wrong. His mind raced through worst-case scenarios, his heartbeat quickening despite himself.
“Open the door.” His voice was lower now, an unspoken warning behind the words. If you didn’t answer soon, he wasn’t waiting.